


That London Heat

by Livewire94



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 01:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livewire94/pseuds/Livewire94
Summary: Aziraphale did, however, catch the door swinging open and Crowley's red struck face as he took in the immediate scene before him. Presumably first, Aziraphale in the bath; naked, flushed and squawking; promptly followed by a thick black dildo hitting the bottom with a not-quite-so insignificant thud. Suffice to say, it was quite shocking for everyone.





	That London Heat

**Author's Note:**

> There was a delightfully cute [fan art](https://twitter.com/cyanwhisky/status/1135894719966326786) with Crowley and Aziraphale in a bath with a rubber duck and someone had captioned it saying something like, 'Crowley's jealous of Aziraphale's rubber duck'. I happened to be scrolling quite fast however, and read duck as another four letter word beginning with d. Also, I was suffering from the UK heatwave. 
> 
> This is that and I can only apologize.

Crowley couldn't sleep. He tried the bed of course, the ceiling, and the walls. All the usual positions. But none had such forth offered him an iota of relief. It was very unlike him really, as sleep was one of the few somewhat hedonistic creature comforts Crowley ever chose to partake in without his angel prompting him. There was a comfort in closing one's eyes and letting the thoughts drift off.

But tonight was not a night that he could sleep. Really, it was quite the opposite. His body felt tight and wound, coiled and ready to snap. It almost felt like his first snake form, despite that being a few millennia ago. All muscles and sinew trapped in tight scaled skin, only able to curve just so.

Crowley sighed. He didn't know if it was him or the weather. He had made his body as cool as it could go but it was still too hot. Hot everywhere. Hottest day in London actually. ' _That'll be the climate change. Humans, such resourceful creatures - on track to drown the earth again on their own terms this time!'_ Crowley thought bitterly. He huffed and slid out from between his dark silk sheets. There was no point in lying awake on a sweat-drenched night like this, alone and steadily growing more frustrated.

Aziraphale didn't sleep. Perhaps he could tempt him to a bottle of wine, and together they could watch the incoming storm break this wretched heat in the early hours. Crowley loved the sound of the thunder, the power of air being ripped apart. Aziraphale, Crowley knew, loved the lightning, filling the darkness and lighting the sky anew.

Yes, he would pop over to the bookshop, maybe bring some snacks with him too, a small picnic of sorts. Aziraphale was much more likely to let him in at this ungodly hour if he had his angel's favourite truffles in hand.

* * *

Aziraphale was burning up in a number of ways. His bookshop, crowded with paper and fabric and wood was considerably warm during this weather rather unsurprisingly, so he had retreated upstairs to his barely used tub. He didn't often feel the need to bathe as it was much faster to just miracle the dirt away. But sometimes he enjoyed the feel of the water touching his skin and his back and shoulders resting against the cool porcelain sides.

Baths were also a natural choice, he thought, for some other very human activities Aziraphale had found himself enjoying partaking in for the last couple of hundred years. It certainly made clean up a lot easier and naturally, he would already be in the nude.

Aziraphale had developed many favourites in life; Patronius' wonderful oyster bar in Rome, the darling little crêpe place on Place de la Marie, the delectable champagne afternoon tea at the Ritz. They weren't all gastronomical however. Through the years, Aziraphale had also acquired quite the collection of phallic... pleasure objects. Dildos, if you will.

They were all quite 'normal' in human terms. Aziraphale had, of course, experimented with the ones with little motors, ones that had shook and whirred the night away - and although a pleasurable experience, he preferred the simple solid aspect of the non-enhanced ones. The standard up and down penis-shaped, flared bottom, easy to grasp and delicious to pump.

Silicone or rubber preferably, metal and glass he felt had always been a bit unnaturally stiff... and while they weren't entirely unpleasant, he found the softer ones a little easier to let his imagination play and lose himself in the feelings of what someone attached to real cock might just feel like...

Yes, Aziraphale liked to _play_ when he bathed. Let his imagination run wherever it most desired; being bent over tables in Rome, pushed up against walls in Paris, laid open on tartan picnic blankets in St James park. There were endless possibilities really.

And tonight was a night that Aziraphale definitely felt like a late-night dip was in order. London was sweltering and Aziraphale was ablaze both inside and out.

* * *

Aziraphale moaned as he felt the drag of the dildo across his already finger stretched hole. He canted his wrist and arched his back to push it in further, finally filling him up just so. God, the first pump was always so delicious, and his own appendage stirred in response. To be full in this way was such a beautiful _exquisite_ thing he thought. It was such heavy deep pleasure, one that which the darkest richest black forest gateaux could not even hope to touch.

In and out Aziraphale pumped as his eyes shut and his toes curled in ecstasy. So safe and wet and wanton. His moans and groans got steadily louder as his pace quickened and he got lost in the rhythm and feeling and _joy_.

So lost, in fact, he missed the knocks on the bookshop door, the calls of his name, and the panicked footsteps up the bookshop stairs. Aziraphale did, however, catch the door swinging open and Crowley's red struck face as he took in the immediate scene before him. Presumably first, Aziraphale in the bath; naked, flushed and squawking; promptly followed by a thick black dildo hitting the bottom with a not-quite-so insignificant thud.

Suffice to say, it was quite shocking for everyone.

* * *

Aziraphale miracled both the dildo away and a 1920's male one-piece bathing suit on himself immediately. If he wasn't in such a panicked state he would have stopped and patted himself on the back for double miracle-ing (as there's always a risk of something getting a little conflated) so he was most relieved he wasn't wearing a giant black dildo costume because surely that could be the only thing that could make the current situation more mortifying for him.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale choked, putting a lot of effort in keeping his voice what he hoped was somewhat even rather than shrill screeching he felt internally ".... I must admit, I wasn't quite expecting you tonight."

The demon was non-responsive, frozen in the doorway slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Aziraphale coughed politely trying to prompt him. It sort of worked. "Truffles. I bought truffles." Crowley supplied rather unhelpfully while dumbly raising the bag and keeping it suspended there.

Aziraphale blinked. _Alright, I suppose I'm taking the lead on this one._

"Crowley...Thank you for the truffles" Aziraphale said carefully "they do look like my favourite. Although, I must admit I'm still not quite sure what you're doing here at this hour and you probably have a lot of questions- going by the look on your face at least."

Crowley nodded minutely but the hand that held the truffles was still in the air.

"Crowley! For goodness sake, put the truffles down. We're all adult...beings here, and while this.... This. This is well, a much more compromising position for me to be in than you. And surely, as a demon. Well, you must _know_ about these things, even if you haven't yourself-" Aziraphale suddenly thought better of going down that route but then panicked and lost his train of thought altogether. "And, and, and I won't be shamed for enjoying this body!" he finished shrilly while thinking ' _yes, maybe turning into a giant dildo would have been the better option.'_

"Angel, angel, don't cry!" Crowley choked out.

"What?! Of course I'm not-" Aziraphale touched his face, his fingers came up a little moist around the eyes "Oh fuck." he said miserably.

"I'm not shaming you, Angel. I would never. I'm sorry for interrupting you, if anything. And long story short, I was so hot, couldn't sleep, thunderstorm tonight, and I thought ' _oh, it’ll be like old times. I'll bring truffles!'_ and then I heard the noises" Crowley looked hurriedly away and back again. "I didn't know if something terrible was happening. I, they were, getting louder so I rushed up-"

"-And here you are!" Aziraphale hastily added in. The least amount of reliving the last few minutes the better, thank you very much!

"And here I am. Not shaming you! Definitely-" Crowley swallowed trying to not take in the way Aziraphale's bathing suit clung wetly to his pale soft skin. "-not shaming you" he finished, his eyes remaining transfixed.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Why, well thank you, then. I should probably-" Aziraphale made a move to push himself out of the bath.

"-Because I wouldn't shame you! There's nothing shameful, about enjoying your body. Your form. I mean. I." Crowley started nodding, bobbing his head up and down. He looked like a maniac. "I like your form. It's a beautiful form really."

Aziraphale stared confusedly.

"Anything would be lucky, to be inside your form, really." Crowley coughed. "Beautiful form" he mumbled looking away.

"Crowley - are you feeling alright, my dear boy?"

Crowley both shook and nodded his head. It was an awkward kind of circular motion. "Heat. Truffles. Probably."

"Ah yes. Well, it is a very hot one tonight, isn't it? So if I just pop out of this bath and-"

"-Do you... often? I mean. With the. Is it good? I've always wondered, actually." Crowley sort of leaned more on the door frame, jutting out his outlandish hips.

"Oh. Err, yes. It certainly is, I enjoy it. I thought, well with your demon wiling and tempting you may have..."

"Eh. Humans. Not really my thing. I mean, I've always thought... about it." Crowley swallowed, his eyes were wide and slightly dangerous.

"Oh?" Aziraphale supplied, something hot bubbling up deep inside of him.

"I mean sure. Humans love it. I didn't know that angels could. And well, stands to reason demons can then - same stock and all that. Maybe I should give it a go?" He paused and swiped his tongue across his bottom lip maddeningly, and drawled "Of course, if I had someone to show me..."

Aziraphale blinked. Crowley was now leaning on the door frame, seemingly be propping it up entirely; all loose-limbed and lax, curved and long and inviting. Long gone the statue impression of earlier, no, this was smelted metal, molten and _hot_.

Aziraphale swallowed hard. Something deep, dark, delicious and decadent was clicking into place for Aziraphale. He studied those yellow sunbeam eyes and saw something akin to a match struck gold with hunger and all of a sudden a thought occurred to him - _Good Lord, those are 'fuck me' eyes, aren’t they? His demon was bloody wooing him! Or at least trying very hard to and quite frankly, it was positively working._ Aziraphale felt his throat become very dry indeed.

"Crowley" Aziraphale started carefully, he looked around the room before once again meeting those very, very hungry eyes. "Are you.... suggesting you're interested in..."

"-Suggesting?" Crowley drawled faux-innocently. "It's just an idea, angel. No pressure of coursssee... Rubber ducks I'm well-versed with rubber dicks, well that's whole 'nother ball game." Crowley cocked an auburn eyebrow at him, a smirk playing at his lips.

Something in Aziraphale snapped. The air had left his lungs, the ball had dropped, the facade of politeness and restraint had shattered and left a million shimmering pieces inside of him. Aziraphale clicked his fingers; his bathing suit gone, his black dildo back. "Get in the bath, Crowley."

* * *

Crowley did not need to be told twice.

He was unclothed and in the bath in an instant. Warm water pooled up to his naval and covered his lower legs but left his back open to the muggy London air that clung to the room. The atmosphere weighed thick with possibility.

Aziraphale drank in that expanse of naked pale skin hungrily and cooed "Look at you, my dear boy, simply breath taking." Fingers skimmed Crowley's legs- little circular patterns raising hairs. "Come here, Crowley." Aziraphale said with equal parts warmth and want. He leaned in and pulled his friend closer; hands moved to stroke through red struck hair, lips pressed against lips and they were kissing. It was sweet and wet and wanting.

Crowley's hands also lifted to Aziraphale's face, touching his bright pale hair, the shell of his ears, the curve of his neck and his steady round shoulders. When they broke apart Crowley's skin had prickled all over. He moved his forehead to Aziraphale's bringing them close once more. "Angel" he croaked out like a prayer and began to pepper kisses all over; his lips, his cheeks, and his neck, and suddenly it was less of little kisses and more of sliding tongues and mouthing teeth. He murmured into Aziraphale's salt sweat skin all the while, choking out words like 'please' and 'fuck' and 'beautiful'.

Aziraphale groaned in pleasure, he was already so, so hard. His hand fisted reflexively in Crowley's hair, holding him close, bringing him closer as if saying, _drink me, drink me, consume me whole_. "Crowley" he begged.

Crowley felt like he was on fire, burning up from the inside out craving to be closer to Aziraphale, to be everything and nothing and to him. To exist in this heat-filled moment full of the feeling of his body on his. "Tell me, show me, Angel. What you want, what you like."

Aziraphale reached to where the dildo lay at the bottom of the bath, gripping it like he had done earlier. Crowley pulled back, his lips were wet with saliva and his forehead beaded with sweat. He shuffled slightly to make room for Aziraphale to slide down and stretch his legs out like he had before and watched in mesmerization as Aziraphale began to prepare himself. Short little presses around his opening, slow and insistent that made Aziraphale moan and bite his lip.

Black rubber disappeared centimeter by delicate centimeter. It was always such a delicious stretch, being opened from the outside in. The bodies natural resistance transitioning to acceptance then greed. It felt dizzying and Aziraphale wondered distantly if this was perhaps nothing more than a fever dream brought on by the stifling heat of the city.

He stared into Crowley’s eyes checking it was real, that he was real, and started to get lost in the expression of awe and hunger. His gaze traveled further down still and noticed Crowley was hard and stroking himself. Long slender fingers grasping a beautiful cock. _God, he was beautiful._

His own cock ached and throbbed in response. "Kiss me, Crowley, kiss and touch me like you were doing. Please." Aziraphale half-begged, half-demanded, as he pumped the dildo in and out of himself steadily. Crowley started to manoeuvre himself to lay on top of him when Aziraphale reached for Crowley's hand and wrapped it around the toy in lieu of his own. "Fuck me, my darling, go on" he earnestly encouraged.

Crowley began fucking him with the dildo, drawing it out and into him, keeping up that steady pace he had watched Aziraphale make. It felt delicious. The angel relished the use of both his hands once again and ran his hands up and down his friend's back, feeling the raises of his spine, the splaying of his ribs. He traced the place where his wings were and pressed his nails in. Crowley jolted and his hand pushed the dildo in further breaking his steady pace. Aziraphale keened as he saw stars; he suddenly felt like he was balancing on a knife's edge.

"Sorry, sorry!" Crowley sputtered but Aziraphale just pulled him closer and kissed him hard in response; his hands on either side of his face. "Shh, shh, my love, I need you inside of me." Aziraphale gasped as he trembled against Crowley. "I'm close my dear and I want you inside of me. I need you-" he panted as he reached down and pulled out the toy, moaning into Crowley's collarbone at the loss of fullness but soon guiding Crowley inside of him.

Crowley's gasped as he slid in smoothly. Nothing in the last six millennia could have prepared him for the tight warmth of being inside of Aziraphale. He had hung stars in the sky and yet that divinity did not compare to this. Crowley buried his face in the crook of his angel’s neck and shoulder breathing him in, licking and moaning at the skin there. He was coming undone- only able to pant 'please angel' over and over like a precious mantra, praying that Aziraphale both knew what he was asking and how to answer.

"Yes, Crowley, yes, Crowley, just like that beautiful" Aziraphale keened using one hand to grab onto Crowley's arse and pull him closer, his fingers leaving indents in skin. Their bodies were tight against each other and now Aziraphale's hard cock lay flush between them. Crowley bit back a moan as he felt the angel’s hand bury deep in his hair, gripping hard on the sharp side of pain. "My dear, that's it, filling me up so perfect, just-" the angel moaned as he canted his hips and bore back down onto Crowley.

"That's it, just-" Aziraphale gyrated slowly, bearing his hips down and taking in Crowley to the hilt. "-like that, in and out, just like before darling". The demon was happy to oblige. _Yes, angel, you show me how on this heat slicked night, our wet bodies against each other, show me how you get pleasure, take it all from me like you take the last crumbs off a fork. Devour me._ Crowley drew his pale hips back and thrust back into Aziraphale which elicited a broken sound that echoed across the room.

Aziraphale was already so close and each time Crowley pulled back and pushed back in, his own cock dragged between them. Everything was too much and not enough. Crowley above him, sweat-slick and beautiful, panting desperately, arms straining with his weight, hips snapping into him so deep, filling him up with each thrust.

Each long slide into Aziraphale was building a fire a deep inside of Crowley, threatening to set everything alight and aflame. _Not yet, not yet_ he pleaded internally, to a higher being whose name he did not know. Aziraphale's hands were frantic and everywhere, scratching, grabbing, squeezing handfuls of him. Nails raked down his back leaving scorch mark trails. Crowley groaned, squeezed his yellow-eyes shut and distantly wondered if he could discorporate from _this_.

Aziraphale started to arch his back, each muscle seizing and spasming as he let out a strangled scream. Warm spurts of come ran into the bathwater as his whole body shuddered and jolted. It was too much for Crowley, feeling his friend spasm around him while watching his halo-hair framed face twist in euphoria and bliss. He came into Aziraphale seconds later, hot, and desperate. Like a piece of elastic cord that had been pulled, pulled and pulled, finally snapping into two and pinging back to reality.

They were both still panting and wet, trying to catch their breath.

Crowley slipped out of Aziraphale and back down into the bathwater limply. He laid his head on Aziraphale's chest as gentle arms came up to wrap around him and pull him close.

Aziraphale leaned down to kiss lightly along Crowley's damp hairline. "Oh Crowley, that was..." he paused trying to find the words that could possibly encapsulate what he experienced.

"Good?" Crowley supplied a bit dryly, his voice still on the edge of hoarse.

"More than _good_." Aziraphale tutted but smiled against him all the same. "Much more than _good_ " he stressed empathetically.

Abruptly and with a dash of panic, Aziraphale realised he mustn't speak for Crowley too and he better check that-

"More than good works for me too, Angel" Crowley drawled, still limp and lax against his angel. He closed his eyes contentedly, leaning into the fingers carding softly through his hair.

A low powerful rumble of thunder rolled distantly in the background.

"Oh, I do believe we may have bought on a storm, Crowley."

Crowley smiled. "Oh yes - due about now. I bought your favourite truffles."

**Author's Note:**

> Also on Tumblr, find me [here](https://bouilliab.tumblr.com/) :) & come say hi!
> 
> Actually my first proper written piece. So glad to be a part of this amazing fandom and read from a wealth of brilliant talented writers. Please feel free to comment, constructive criticism is very much welcome, or just comment to scream at me about these wonderful idiots in love.


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